


Deus Ex Machina

by RoastedPig



Series: The Yellow Brick Road [1]
Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fatherhood, Gen, Liberties with naming, flashfiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-22 19:02:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6090919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoastedPig/pseuds/RoastedPig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hypothetically, there exist multiple universes parallel to each other. In one, he spends years and years in meticulous machinations, waiting patiently for the most opportune moment to exact rightful retribution. In another, he lets cold grief swallow him in murderous rage.</p><p>(Or Saazbaum takes Slaine under his wing very early on and one thing led to another. Who knew fatherhood could save the future.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Time Capsule

The invitation sits innocuously on the table, the crisp clean white surface bearing only a name and a simple decoration of red and gold filigree. Underneath, the seal of the royal family remains intact, whole as the day he had received it. The rim of the glass touches his lips and the bitterness of alcohol washes his mouth.

Once upon a time he would have opened the extravagant missive with enthusiasm, with eagerness to please. Now he sees the wretched thing as a reminder to years of blind loyalty and servitude towards a ruler unfitting of the throne he claimed.

The glass presses hard against the curl of his palm and fingers, phantom images of the heavens falling playing at the back of his mind.

A muted din echoes in the room and the door behind breaths out a smooth sigh as it opens. The voice of a soldier soon follows.

“Lord Saazbaum.”

There is a pause of silence as a quiet permission to continue is asked.

Alois does not turn away from his view of space, giving his consent with only a gesture of his hand.

“Permission to approach, milord.”

He spares the soldier a glance and notes the small parcel the man carries that barely fills both of his hands. “Proceed.”

The soldier bows before walking towards him, the sound of footfalls rigid. He bows again before Alois, offering the parcel. “It is of the Lady Orlane’s.”

An incessant ringing slithers into his ears at the mention of her name, the glass almost slips from his hold but he manages to put it on the accent table in mechanical effort. The images of the past he had been replaying in his mind fades into a blank.

“I humbly offer my condolences, milord.”

He takes the package with cold fingers, comprehension leaving him as all his senses tune in onto removing the clear, thin cover above the simple recording device secured in white sturdy foam.

“I will leave you to your privacy, Lord Saazbaum.”

The pad of his finger ghosts over the smooth device and he is not ready when Orlane— _beautiful, kind, passionate Orlane_ —gazes at him with gray eyes thunderous with ill concealed nervousness but shines brightly with joy and excitement.

_“My lord, Count Saazbaum.”_

The sound of her voice is enough to unravel him and he chokes on the very air he breaths.

_“It is bold of me but I dare hoped you will find this a happy occasion as did I upon learning of it.”_

Slowly she lifts a thin screen device depicting a result of a recent scan of her womb where a tiny oval shaped mass is nestled safely inside.

_“I chose to delay... distract... our mission...”_

Numbness spreads from his chest to his fingers. The ringing in his ears grows louder. He no longer sees and hears Orlane. There is only the vast empty space before him.

_“...I’ll be waiting—_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors Note: Always had been a reader (a lurker is a lurker) in the fandom and I've always wanted to try writing but didn't know what that and I didn't have much time before and I find myself with some, time, I mean, and so out of shape sooooo I tried dipping my hand in this annnd--*bites her tongue. Ehem. Anyway, this serves as writing practice and as well as to quell my fangirl gushings of having Saazbaum suf--I mean, enjoy the woes of fatherhood.
> 
> Sorry Troyard-tousan... no not really.
> 
> Story Notes  
> 1\. Names - I gave Saazbaum a first name and a second name as I will with other characters that could pop up in here. As I understand, Vers nobility has three names: First - their given name; Second - the family name, and; Third - their court names. Aldnoah isn't consistent with this format but this is what I will follow. Anyway for this fiction, I made Saazbaum's full name as: Alois Colbrand Saazbaum.
> 
> Alois is pronounced as Ah-luis. It being Hitler's father's name is a coincidence. 
> 
> 2\. This is a flashfiction story so please do not expect long updates.


	2. Genie in a Bottle

Swords lock, neither side willing to give. There is a shift. Both bipedal Kataphrakts jumps back to opposite sides of the pit, blades still poise, waiting for the one or the other to make its next move. A flash of black, brilliant blue cape whipping behind, sparks another clash anew agaisnt its white counterpart. The swords sing, a salvo of metal meeting metal. The glass separating the combatants and their audience reverberates in response to each powerful blow.

Alois watches the proceedings happening beneath his feet with disinterest, already knowing how it will end. They are equal, both in talent and skill, but the Count Schezzar is known to exhaust his patience sooner than the Viscount Fanelia.

The jaunt continues and the audience does not hold any reservations in expressing what they thought are better strategies as if they are trained in using the ceremonial Kataphrakts like the members of the house of Asturia and Draconia. Alois lifts his sight towards the separate spectator’s box meant for the royal family.

The emperor is alone.

His fingers brush over the cold hilt of the knife hidden in his pocket. Red had already overtaken his vision but the small blade does not allow it to rob him of his sense.

“Lord Saazbaum, his majesty will see you now.”

_It will be over soon._

He follows the page, ignoring the cold calculating glances he receives as he passes by. Idly, he muses how long Mars will last after it is left in the hands of the peerage. Some will make fine leaders, but most... He lets a small smile secretly stretch his lips.

The planet’s fate is of no use for the dead.

They walk between gilded walls. The knife sits heavily in his pocket. The procession is slow, but each step builds anticipation, each step takes him closer to the end—

“ _Oh! Finally!_ ”

Small hands grab his arm, pulling at him, insisting his immediate attention. The recognition comes to him too late, allowing the young princess of Vers to bodily drag him away from his goal.

“Please come! He needs your help! I kissed him like in Mother’s stories but he won’t wake!”

He stumbles after the girl, his brain not keeping up with sudden shift of events, only recognizing the tremble in the girl's voice. They arrive at a corridor that leads to the water temple. A couple of imperial guards litter the area. The main entrance slides open as two guards equipped with breathing helmets exits from it. One carries a child in his arms. The small hands release its hold over Alois as the princess run up to the men.

“Is he well now? Did he wake up?”

A guard comes up to him to relay the situation at hand. Alois doesn’t hear the man, his eyes transfixed on the child the guard lowers to the floor. Deep sense of familiarity blossoms at the back of his mind, pulsing in insisting beats. He knows that young pallid face...

“Why isn’t he breathing? Make him breathe, please!”

Alois snaps to his senses and pushes the guard out of the way. Before he knows it he is on his knees and checking for a pulse. _None._ He places both his hands on the small unmoving chest and compresses it again and again in precise intervals until he tilts the boy's head by the chin and breathes into him.

There is a pleading noise teetering beside him, sparking a desperation he doesn’t know he had, fueling him to repeat the cycle of his movements again and again.

_Breathe..._

_Breathe.—_

_“Breathe!_ ”

As if heeding his command, the boy finally, _finally_ draws a shocked gasp. The boy, then, turns his face away, coughing weakly as his body expels foreign clear liquid through his mouth.

Tension leaves Alois as lightness slips into his body. He cups the small face in his hand and a glassy, blue green gaze looks up to him under half lidded eyes, triggering memories of the short time spent under the care of an unexpected help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Unless Slaine had undergone evolution in a matter of minutes upon entering Mars's atmosphere Asseylum’s slow rescue wouldn’t have saved him but ensured his death instead because hello. Normal human. Pressurized airlock environment. Hole in the roof. Martians are Martians for a reason. Maybe. They have Aldnoah factor. Whatever. Anyway, one does wonder, though, as how the girl knew how to help Slaine expel the excess hyper-oxygenated fluid in his lungs on the fly...
> 
> And oh yes, I didn’t expect it this early on. I mean this is only the second entry after all. But if you caught the reference, well. :3
> 
> Also I’ve been googling and saw this: http://largerdonuts.tumblr.com/image/120314699405
> 
> *melts
> 
> Anyway this should be Saaz-papa’s last emo funk. He would prolly still be but he should gradually loosen up, I think...!
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and comments guys!


	3. Reason to Delay

"Our drones have moved from Sector E9 to E11 this morning. However, we have yet to find any traces of a second escape pod.”

Alois nods absently to the report, keeping his expression a perfect mask of neutrality. It’s less than thirty six hours since their search. Nothing is certain. “What of the main ship?”

“I’m afraid we will be facing substantial delay for the operation, milord.”

He turns his head to his seneschal, brows slightly meeting, giving him his undivided attention. To the man’s credit, he does not falter under Alois’s heavy gaze.

“The Count Keteratesse is already in the area of the predicted crash site and is requesting to have the search and retrieval operation under his command,” the man says, tone even. “Our intel also informs that the Counts Selkinas, Flourence, Dornkirk and Schenberg will express their interest shortly.”

Five... This attention... Although important, this is not something a mere research on Aldnoah’s biotechnological potential should garner. ...Just what is Troyard doing up there?

 _...No._ Such a thing is of no concern to him. There is no need to have himself involved in a game of plots and gains. “Have it relayed that we will commence the search.”

“My lord?”

Alois turns away from his steward, his feet already beginning to return him to his interrupted visit earlier. He only has a debt that needs to be settled, there is no need to do anything more than that. “The operation will be turned over to whoever steps forward. My only concern is to have Troyard found immediately.”

“I hear and obey, my lord.”

The sharp click of boots signals the steward’s departure as Alois rounds a corner. He stops in front of a room and readies himself for acts of pleasantries. It only takes a touch of a button for the door to slide open with a sibilant hiss, and suddenly finding himself sprinting forward with arms outstretched. Troyard’s ten year old son lands squarely below his ribs.

“ _Slaine!_ ”

The Princess rushes to their side, face stricken with alarm.

The boy doesn’t answer, busy catching his breath in slow, shallow gasps that makes him wince in apparent discomfort. Anger pinches Alois’s expression, cracking his schooled civility. “You shouldn’t be up,” he says, the steel in his voice sharp, as he deftly picks up the boy in his arms.

“I’m sorry, I insisted,” the Princess says, sounding contrite. “I only wanted to play with him.”

It takes effort not to snap at the girl as he deposits the boy back to the too large bed. The boy peers at him imploringly and Alois cuts him before he could even try to speak. “If you wish to apologize, concentrate on breathing.”

The boy flinches but did as he is told.

“It’s my fault. Please don’t be mad at him...”

The girl begins her explanation of how she only wanted them to play a Terran game the boy was telling her about. It is meant to appease but it only manages to fray Alois’s thinning patience. He doesn’t speak nor pay attention to the Princess, putting little trust in his control to not lash out at the sheer stupidity her current upbringing has caused. While the boy has gained consciousness and is well enough to be cohesive, his inherent paleness is still sickly, his movements lethargic and there is an obvious difficulty in breathing. This should have dissuaded any to cajole him into any strenuous activity, much less usher him out of bed.

“Count Saazbaum?” the girl ventures, clearly uncertain of his silence.

Alois calms himself again and then motions for the maid that has all but melted into the wall. “It is best for you to return to your quarters, your highness.”

“But...”

“ _He needs his rest_ ,” Alois says, voice firm.

The girl whimpers, but asserts herself shakily, “Can I... can I come back later?”

“I will have someone fetch you when he is well enough.”

He ignores the dejectedness radiating from the girl and sees her off to the door. When he comes back, he is met with turbulent blue green eyes. Unwillingly, a bit of his displeasure goes out in a soft sigh, “Do you need medication for the pain?”

The boy shakes his head softly. He bites his bottom lip and gazes at Alois, his worry plain to see.

Alois sighs again, knowing the reason for the boy’s anxiety. “There’s no need to fret. I won't take your unruly visitor from you.”

The boy’s wan face lights up immediately taking Alois aback. He manages to find his equilibrium as he sits on the chair beside the boy’s bed. “Only when you have rested enough,” he reminds, meaning to be stern but fails to keep the sharpness in his tone.

“Thank you, sir.”

The voiced gratitude is almost inaudible, but it reaches him and breaks any pretense of austerity he is trying to keep. Alois rests a hand on the boy’s head, feeling soft, downy hair underneath his palm, “Rest.”

The boy doesn’t resist when he guides him down to the bed and tucks him under the thick blankets. Alois waits for sleep to visit his young charge in contemplative silence of how differently subdued this boy is to the hellion of a baby Alois once cared for. It proves sufficient entertainment as he waits for time to pass.

He leaves the room silently, dimming the lights as he slips out, and heads straight to his temporary quarters to be updated on Troyard’s whereabouts. The sooner he finds Troyard the sooner he will be bereft of his responsibility to the boy and be absolved of his debt.

Alois leafs through the meagre collection of reading material available in his room and picks out a basic manual of Aldnoah powered engines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Story Note:  
> A seneschal is an officer having full charge of domestic arrangements, ceremonies, the administration of justice, etc. in the household of a medieval prince or dignitary; a steward. 
> 
> A/N: I’ve always thought of Slaine’s hair to be fluffy... Anyway, doing this with baby steps since it’s gonna be nay unbelievable for Saaz-papa to just abandon everything and be a full time dad. Also, I’m retaining Slaine’s and Asseylum’s age in canon (kinda) because I need him to be as fond of the planet as he was during the anime so he could inspire the same feelings of ‘kumbaya’ with Saaz.
> 
> I’ve opened a can of worms that is the Vers Empire and the impossibility of how it managed to survived its 27 years before Heavens Fall, not to mention the next fifteen years to get to the anime timeline. But, by god, I will make this work just so I can have a good Saaz-papa and Slaine story. Baby steps. Baby steps.
> 
> Thanks for reading guys, the kudos and comments are appreciated.


	4. Ice Breaker

Alois feels his skin prickle. He shifts in his sit and uncrosses his legs only to switch their position, left on top of the right. He begins reading his book anew, starting at the very top of the text. He hasn’t swiped the screen onto the next page for the last twenty minutes. He glances up from his book and it takes a second before the blue green eyes widens and shifts downwards to fidgeting small hands.

He doesn’t call out the boy for his staring, and instead tries to read the text again. The familiar prick of being watched, however, comes back not a second later. He gives a surreptitious look at his charge and sees unguarded curiosity directed at him.

In a way he is at fault for the boy’s idle hands. There is nothing in the room to help pass time and he has barred the only other visitor the boy has as the Princess had proven to be detrimental to the boy’s recovery. He didn’t save the boy just so the Princess could kill him due to her whims and willfulness. The swelling of the boy’s lungs has receded substantially but until it is completely healed, he is not letting that nuisance near his charge.

Alois lowers the book to his lap and gives the boy his attention, finally abandoning the pretext of getting any reading done. The boy ducks his head, bottom lip automatically tucked between his teeth as he vainly tries to pretend that he hasn’t been looking.

The corner of Alois’s mouth hooks into a small bemused smile. “What do you know of Aldnoah engines?” he asks.

The boy peers up to him, uncertain. He shakes his head in silent admission.

Putting his perplexity aside, Alois doesn’t dwell on why Troyard’s son is illiterate on the subject. “Would you like to learn?”

The reaction is instantaneous, the boy perking and brightening up at his offer. “Really?” the boy breathes, his tone matching the mix of astonishment and eagerness painted on his young face.

Alois chuckles. “I am no expert, but I can at least explain the basics of it.”

Alois stands and drags his seat closer to the bed. He fiddles at the options of the book, producing a 3D image of a disassembled basic spherical cone engine, the blueprint projected on top of the screen. He settles back to his seat, side resting on the soft silicone gel mattress. The boy sits closer to the edge, enough for their shoulders to touch lightly.

Alois starts his explanation at the very base, the Aldnoah Generation Furnace which harnesses the energy to produce Aldnoah Particles, and works his way to the Stability Control Unit which regulates the engine energy output.

The boy listens in rapt attention and hesitantly posts questions periodically. The one sided lesson doesn’t last as Alois’s catches himself interested on ‘ _baryonic decay_ ,’ as the boy comments that the energy Aldnoah seems to use is similar to what he had read from one of Troyard’s notes.

Alois stays into the night and eats supper with the boy, their conversation now moving to a lighter subject of Terran animals that the boy has encountered. When it’s time to retire for the night, he leaves the book and tells the boy to read up on it so he can tell him what he has learned when Alois next visits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What better way to bond over with than science? *gets shot* Saaz, by the way, is exaggerating about Slaine’s condition. Given the tech they have, Pleurisy (swollen lungs) shouldn’t be much of a problem. How Slaine got it, well... I should be able to explain later. 
> 
> The engine mentioned is technically, yes, the GN Drive (Gundam 00). So disclaimers, Sunrise owns it. Also updated the tags. Gonna borrow characters from other shows because I’ll be needing more kids. Like. More. 
> 
> Also, I’ve always thought of Slaine as a smart kid given that he grew up surrounded in his father’s research. Though, I also have an impression that Dr Troyard underestimated his mental capability since he gave a watered down version of why the sky is blue. Wouldn’t surprise me since, Slain already said in canon that his father is too busy with his research to pay attention to him. Anyway, I imagine Saaz wouldn’t have any such prejudice since I doubt he has a clue on what a 10 year old kid should be able to comprehend. So no kiddie gloves when it comes to such technical subjects. 
> 
> As for the ‘book,’ the closest I think they would get to it is like a single book kindle reader, albeit a lot more high tech that what we have. Vers doesn’t have trees hence no paper. You could just imagine how much of a luxury it is to use paper for invitations.


	5. A Brief Exchange

It’s in the middle of the night but Alois finds himself walking in darkened hallways, his heavy footsteps the only thing disrupting the continues muted hum of the generators that makes up the natural sound of Vers. A seize order had been passed down, making all his men stop their search until further notice. Any attempt to plea his case to that charlatan of a man playing Emperor was denied in lieu of an advisement to attend a conference meant for all interested parties.

The conference is scheduled a week from now.

A growl reverberates deep in his chest.

“Bad night, Count Saazbaum?”

The sudden question jolts him out of his ire but Alois doesn’t let surprise color him as he looks at the slate haired young noble lounging on a window sill. Indifference is a mask that easily slips onto his face. “Enjoying the scenery, Viscount?” he replies smoothly.

Folken Draconia Fanelia gives him a wry smile and taps the transparent glass that separates them from Mars's caustic atmosphere. The view before them is a crawling metropolis built from numerous blocks of varying sizes, light illuminates the city from beneath in straight lines and sharp turns. The horizon offers a slice of space, vast and empty as it has always been. The whole picture is only one of the two views Mars can offer its people.

For a while neither speaks. Alois contemplates to leave the younger man alone. He has little dealings with the commander of the royal guards, and little more to say to the Draconia heir. The silence breaks again when a pre-recorded mechanical voice from the walls gurgles to life and spews its regular broadcast of their superior race and their holy right to Earth for the benefit of the night workers.

“Superior race, hm,” Fanelia murmurs absently. He regards Alois with a dark red brown gaze, the inherent color of Mars's wet dead earth. There is, however, nothing dead in the light of those eyes, only inquisitiveness. “What do you think, Count?”

Alois answers in truth, “You’ve already seen to our might.”

The Count Goau took his son to Earth to partake in their first attempt at conquest. Folken Draconia had been fifteen and only received his court name, Fanelia, then.

“Perhaps.”

The younger noble turns his attention back outside. It is a clear end of their pleasantries but Fanelia speaks again before Alois can move on to his way.

“I have a brother, Van. He is ten.”

Alois’s mask slips as his brows knotted, wondering where Fanelia is going with such an off mark statement. It caused a lot of ruckus among the peerage, but the Draconia house having two children isn’t a secret.

The other doesn’t speak any more. Alois parts his lips and almost urges the conversation to go on. He catches himself before he omits the mistake. This is like the peerage’s sudden interest in Troyard. Whatever merit Fanelia wants to gleam is none of his concern. Getting caught up in it will only cause an even further delay to his revenge.

Alois concludes the conversation with the same kind of inconsequential statement.

“Troyard’s son is also ten.”

“I see... Have a pleasant night, Count.”

“To you as well, Viscount.”

Alois leaves, then, his feet carry him across the now familiar corridors that lead to the medic wing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that really is Folken Fanel and Van Fanel from Escaflowne. So, disclaimers.
> 
> Nothing much happened but it makes for an interesting setup, I think. Slaine didn't want to poke his fluffy head into this entry for some reason... but he should be in there at the next.
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and feedback guys, they're greatly appreciated! ^^


	6. Pillow Fort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A direct continuation of the previous entry.

When the door slides open, liquid ice slithers inside Alois’s chest. The room is too dark, too cold. The bed is empty. No blanket. No pillow.

No boy sleeping on it.

Anger bubbles inside him, battling the other feeling that’s hallowing his chest in an icy wake. He turns and marches to the nurses’ station in quick strides.

The boy’s presence in the palace displeases many and the Princess’s childish favor does not hold any real weight. It can easily be placated with the simplest of lies, a flimsy film that can be swatted away with nary the thought to cause ill intent. However, a Count’s favor is no such paltry thing, not when severe consequence is a fact that looms overhead when it is callously dismissed.

Or so such should have been the case.

The station’s door hisses open before he even reaches it. For once Alois notices the automated efficiency and it incenses him further for an inexplicable reason. He enters the room without preamble, the nurse on duty noticing him only when he is upon her.

“The boy,” he growls.

The nurse squeaks but does not answer.

“Where is the boy.”

The useless stuttering makes him snarl. This imbecile of a waste of space is delaying him from recovering the boy from wherever sty they dare deemed place him. His hand lashes to the woman’s arm, squeezing the soft flesh. He will only ask one last time.

“Count Saazbaum...?”

The question comes from behind. Alois whirls around, abandoning the useless woman before him, and sees a second nurse, her stance questioning. “ _Where is the boy_ ,” he repeats.

The newcomer blinks at him and opens her mouth as if to say something but pauses to study him instead. The uncertainty in the woman’s dark eyes is replaced with steadiness that can only come from comprehension. “Please follow me,” she says.

She is already out of sight before Alois manages to leave the station. Their brisk steps bounce across the hallways, bellying the haste in their movements. “Weren’t you informed, my lord?” the woman asks, not looking at him. “That the child has an odd sleeping habit?”

Alois doesn’t have chance to answer as they arrive at the boy’s room. The nurse glances at him and places an index finger upon her full lips before she enters. She pauses on the panel by the door and adjusts the dial for the room’s lighting, fixing it to the barest minimum, maintaining the darkness but illuminating it enough to make out the contours of the room. She passes by the bed and makes her way towards a corner, taking care not to cause too much noise. Alois follows her in the same manner, for now placated.

He spies the edge of the missing blanket on the floor as they neared the wall and traces it up to a lump snuggled soundly in the nook. The nurse bends from her waist, back arching, and gently lifts the blanket up. Alois first sees the pillow, then the small arm loosely wrapped around it.

“He’s always like this during the night,” the nurse whispers, sitting down as she pulls the blanket lower. She nudges the pillow aside revealing the boy underneath, sound asleep. “He doesn’t leave the bed before, but I think it’s because he was only too weak to do so... Gave me quite the fright the first time...”

The ice washes away and the anger deserts Alois like a coward, leaving him uncomfortable in his own skin. The nurse takes the pillow from the boy’s grasp, putting it aside, and then reaches for the boy with both hands. Alois stops her before she could carry the boy.

“My lord?”

Alois doesn’t speak, ignoring the heat crawling up his neck. He lowers himself to the floor on one knee and gathers the boy easily in a carrying embrace. The boy stirs but only to burrow deeper into the crook of his neck, as if seeking warmth. Alois lets a few seconds pass before he straightens himself upright, arms fastening securely across the boy’s back and legs, then makes his way back to the bed. The nurse follows him with the pillow and blanket.

The bed is a cold, unwelcoming thing no better than the hard floor when he sets his eyes upon it. He finds himself loathing the idea of tucking his charge into such discomfort. Disgruntled, he climbs to the bed and settles himself on the middle, back resting on the headboard, and adjusts the boy on his lap. He’ll tuck him in when the mattress is sufficiently warm.

The nurse gives Alois the pillow and blanket, settling it beside him. She lingers silently at the side before she addresses him again. “I’m sorry for the misunderstanding, my lord,” she says. “We didn’t mean to cause any offense.”

His lips thin at the remark. He had been rash, and most of the fault lies on him but he is a Count and a Count does not apologize. He chooses his words carefully. “Until Troyard is found, the boy falls under my protection.”

“Of course, my lord.”

Alois shoots a glance at the woman. It’s too dark to clearly see her expression but there is something in her rigid tone that suggests that she is finding amusement in the situation at hand. He elects not to call her on it. “You will tell me more about the boy’s condition in the morning. You are dismissed.”

“Then by your leave,” the nurse bows. “I’ll be at the station if you need assistance. Pleasant evening, my lord.”

The nurse walks away, the door closing in a silent hiss upon her exit. Alois breathes out a sigh he has been keeping. He peers down at his charge and cards his fingers through the boy's soft hair.

He wonders what came over him.

And then remembers that the mattress has an automatic thermal control.

“Only until Troyard is found,” Alois sighs, feeling thoroughly foolish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hrm. Saaz... you’re an emotionally constipated bastard to write, you know that? Can’t even admit to yourself that you’re all embarrassed for panicking. Anyway, I’ll apologize for the stilted storytelling. I’m still warming up to writing after so long without o.e; Also for the skewed pacing, can’t tell if I’m making Saaz too close to Slaine too quickly or not--first time doing flashfiction series... normally I don't have the pacing skewed but I haven't finished a proper multi-chaptered story, like for realz. I'm okay with one shots though (I have an ff.net account that I don't visit anymore...slinks away), and flashfiction is generally like that, or so I feel it is... 
> 
> The nurse might make a comeback. Slaine’s weird sleeping habit... well I’m still thinking about where I would go with it. I have two options I can use it for.... I’ll choose one when I get there...
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and feedback guys~ <3


End file.
